


Creature Comforts

by ChillieBean



Series: Suit Up! [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 19:41:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17065892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillieBean/pseuds/ChillieBean
Summary: Suit Up! B-side--Jesse's perspective from the sleepy cuddle scene in chapter three.





	Creature Comforts

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr, now moving it here.

Jesse has spent most of his life devoid of the creature comforts the rest of the world have the pleasure of experiencing on a daily basis.

As a kid, he had it all: toys, a bed, ice cream, you name it. He knew he wasn’t the most affluent kid in school, but who was back then? The world was still in the grips of the Omnic Crisis, a large part of the population displaced, a small part destroyed. Sure, he lived in a cramped house with twelve other people. Sure, his bed was a mattress in the corner, shared with his mamá and papi and three other gang members, but at least he had a roof over his head and a place to sleep.

As a teen, he didn’t need toys when he had guns and sex. He didn’t need ice cream when he had weed and alcohol. Beds often came and went, sometimes it was his own, other times it was someone else’s, a hook up at their place or at a motel. Everyone else in the gang was like him, though, living by their means, being an imposing presence in town, passing out from drugs or alcohol on the floor, the couch, someone else’s bed. It was his life, and he didn’t know any better.

After Blackwatch busted in, his bed was traded for a cot. His room, a room he was the sole occupant in given he was quickly rising the ranks of Deadlock, was traded for a shared living space containing nine other people. Instead of living off a bowl of cereal and fast food, he had proper meals, a structured breakfast, lunch and dinner. Instead of wasting the day away getting high, he had drills. Instead of being a wild animal, he was tamed, taught how to truly harness the potential of deadeye.

After Overwatch fell, that is when he pretty much dropped all creature comforts. He reverted back to fast food for meals. It was a good night if he had a bed. It was a great night if the bed didn’t have bed bugs, and it was a fucking fantastic night if he was sharing a bed with someone.

Rejoining Overwatch was done reluctantly, after some convincing from a certain cyborg friend. Given there was only Winston, Lena and Reinhardt when he and Genji joined, he got one of the rooms the higher-ups were only awarded when he was in Blackwatch. For the first time since Deadlock, he had his own room, a stationary place he could call his own; no longer a temporary, single-use place like the run-down motels of past, no longer shared with people he simultaneously loved and loathed.

Certain undercover missions recently gave him tastes of upscale living. The one in LA just three months ago involved staying in a moderately okay hotel, but boy did it have the second comfiest bed Jesse had the pleasure of sleeping in. The sheets were soft, the duvet heavy, and Jesse slept like a baby. The mission in Amsterdam, too, earlier in the year had him scoping out a high-end restaurant, so he ate the finest food he’s ever eaten. Left him craving a burger and fries and beer by the time he was done—he is a man of simple tastes, after all—but it was some damn fine grub.

And then there’s this mission, at _the_ fanciest place Jesse’s stayed at, with _the_ best rack of lamb he’s ever eaten, with _the_ softest sheets and comfiest bed, _and_ the added bonus of a warm body to cuddle up to.

Jesse sighs wistfully, living in this slice of heaven, enjoying this perfect little space between asleep and awake. He savours the heavy duvet on top of him, and he savours feel of the body pressed up to him; warmth leaching through their t-shirt.

He’s been so long absent a person in his bed, he just wants to enjoy this moment before it all comes crashing down. And it seems the person he’s cuddled up to is enjoying it too, if that little grind of their ass against him is anything to go by.

Humming, he leans in, breathing deep. He smells the hints of cinnamon and lemon on their skin, barely there but it _is_ there and he basks in it. It’s a smell he’s come to love, a smell he gets so incredibly giddy when he catches a whiff of it.

He doesn’t quite remember how Hanzo ended up in his bed, part of him doesn’t want to, he just wants to bask in this moment, where he’s cuddling with Hanzo, where he must have finally had the balls to make a move. He presses a kiss to the spot between his shoulder and neck, right on skin, and right now, this feels absolutely, one hundred percent right.

And like a bomb going off, his brain catches up and he feels a stab of anxiety in his gut, the reaction so visceral he physically pulls away from Hanzo.

He never confronted Hanzo about his feelings.

He never told Hanzo _anything_ about what he feels about him. They’re sharing a bed because they only have one bed to share.

His breathing quickens, and he takes a moment to listen to Hanzo’s. It is deep and rhythmic, and if Jesse’s lucky, he is still asleep. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he slowly pulls his arm away, and just as slowly climbs out of bed and wades to the bathroom, silently closing the door and locking it.

Leaning against the door and running his fingers through his hair, he takes the moment to breathe. Holy fucking shit, did he just kiss Hanzo’s shoulder? He knew he should have pushed to remember why there was a person in his bed. But no, his absolute need to cuddle someone won, and it just _had_ to be Hanzo.

Any other fucking person on the mission who insisted they just share a bed, Jesse would have told them, there and then, ‘Hey, don’t mind me if I end up cuddling you. It’s an unconscious habit and I apologise now.’ He imagines Lena’s response: ‘Don’t worry, love! Everyone should enjoy a good cuddle every now and then.’ Or even Reinhardt’s: ‘You like to cuddle? I like to cuddle!’ before being picked up in a bear hug by the man. Then Jesse supposes that given his size, Jesse would be sleeping on the couch anyway.

Hell, he can even imagine Genji’s response: ‘You fucking touch me, I’ll take your other arm.’ before proceeding to sleep on the couch himself.

But no. He couldn’t tell that to the man he’s in love with. He couldn’t just admit he has this secret soft side, that if you scrub off that hard exterior there’s a man who loves sleepy cuddles and kisses and the sappiest love songs ever recorded.

No. He couldn’t show that side to Hanzo. Not before he admitted there is something more behind the winks, that he is in love with him and has been for a damn long time.

Instead, he had to keep it all bottled up and do exactly what he willed his subconscious not to. That was the reason for the excess alcohol with dinner; to enter a sleep so heavy that he’d wake in the same position he fell asleep in. The fucker probably did it out of spite.

…But fuck, it did feel right. Hanzo fit so perfectly against him, he smelled so damn good. Jesse brushes his fingertips against his lips, and can still feel the residual touch from kissing Hanzo's skin.

And then there was Hanzo grinding against him. Fuck, did that feel damn nice. Hanzo was probably shifting in his sleep, so he shouldn’t get too excited, but feeling his dick twitch in response, and looking down at his tented sweats, he can’t help it.

He can’t help but think, what if Hanzo was awake?

What if he meant it?

Closing his eyes, Jesse indulges in the image that floats into his mind, of Hanzo pressed against him just like that, instead no clothing between them. The feel of his dick against the crease of Hanzo’s ass, pushing in, holding him tight and rolling his hips and fucking him.

A ragged breath passes his lips, and his cock positively throbs at the image. Lifting the lid and seat of the toilet, Jesse pushes down his sweats enough to get his cock free and braces himself against the wall with the other hand. Taking himself in a firm grip, he chases that image, tugging hard and fast and biting his lip to stifle his moans because fuck does he want Hanzo bad, to smell him, kiss him, suck him, fuck him—

He breathes out, slow and stuttered as he comes, biting down on his lip hard so he doesn’t make any noise. The last thing he needs is Hanzo hearing him.

What a fucking embarrassment that would be.

Closing his eyes, he rests his head on his bicep as he comes down from the high. God, if only he had the balls to confront Hanzo, tell him how he feels, he could very well be fucking him right now instead of jerking off in the bathroom, imagining it all.

He sighs, opening his eyes and looking at his softening cock. If he plays his cards right, if he draws attention to himself in the suit—because he knows Hanzo loves the look of him in his suit for all the staring he’s done—maybe flirt a little harder, he’ll end up in Hanzo’s pants tonight.

If not, tomorrow’s the day. The mission will be over, they’ll be able to relax. He’ll take Hanzo out to breakfast, find a real fancy place, and tell him how he feels.

He can do it, purely because jerking off while thinking about him is getting frustrating.

Letting his arm fall to his side, realising he’s been in here a little long, he has a quick piss, flushes, washes his hands and hesitates for a moment, hand on the handle to the door. Praying that Hanzo is still asleep as he opens the door slowly, quietly, he steps through, closing it softly.

When he turns, he freezes, seeing Hanzo has rolled over.

Not only that, Hanzo’s practically lying in his spot.

He must have woken up when Jesse got out of bed. God, hopefully, he wasn’t counting the time he was in the bathroom, no one pisses as long as he was in there.

Jesse knows he should probably go about his day, standing here and staring at him as he sleeps is creepy, stalkerish behaviour, but he can’t will himself to move, he knows the first step he takes will wake him up and—

Jesse’s adrenaline spikes when Hanzo groans, he doubles down before stretching, looking around the room before settling on Jesse by the door. Damn, It’s wholly unfucking fair that Hanzo looks that good just woken up. Messy bed hair, sleepy eyes… God, he’s beautiful.

“Mornin’” Jesse says quickly, putting an end to his rambling thoughts and smiling in an attempt to look natural, like he just walked out of the bathroom instead of staring at him while he slept. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

There’s a brief pause where Hanzo just looks at Jesse, and Jesse thinks this is the moment he’s been discovered, where Hanzo’s going to say ‘how dare you cuddle up to me, and how dare you pleasure yourself on the other side of that door’, and he feels his smile wane ever so slightly. He does his best to push that aside, though, digging his thumb into his palm to keep himself grounded. Trained for years in black-ops, he thought he had his poker face down pat, but apparently, years out of the game is now screwing him over.

Hanzo smiles softly, and it eases Jesse's mind a little. “No, you did not wake me.”

“Good,” Jesse breathes, nodding. He has to physically stop himself from wiping the sweat off his brow, and instead busies himself with putting on a damn shirt. He’s probably given Hanzo a damn good show, and Christ, could he be any more of a disaster? “I’m gonna make a cup of coffee before breakfast, you in?”

“Please.”

With a nod and flashing a thumbs up to Hanzo, Jesse leaves the room, hoping not too quickly to tip Hanzo off that there was something more going on. He enters the kitchen, grabbing the electric kettle and filling it with water before letting it boil, and finally, _finally_ now that he has the time to breathe, to recover from that in the brief moment before Hanzo joins him for coffee, he can take the time to relax, to lower his heart rate and stretch, to will his tense muscles to loosen.

Taking a final deep breath, Jesse promises himself that if tonight doesn’t pan out, he’ll talk to Hanzo tomorrow. He can’t keep living like this, not after this closeness, this little preview of what _could_ be.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [Twitter.](https://twitter.com/BeanChillie)


End file.
